A Rebirth?
by Pokemistress
Summary: It shouldn't even be happening, but it is. I'm in a world I thought was imaginary, and now I have a chance to make something okay again. But is it really the right thing to do? And can I save myself and get back home? -Adopted from Aerith The Evenstar


_**The multiverse is a very peculiar thing. **_

_**Of course, it almost has to be. All sorts of different worlds, universes, all vastly different from one another, living side-by-side, across and down, separated by mere walls like one big apartment-building. It's a wonder they all manage to be so neatly organized, especially due to the fact that one seemingly-minor choice in one universe can create a multitude of other universes, and then someone makes a choice in THAT universe which causes...well, you get the idea.**_

_**Naturally, with so many worlds living side-by-side, there are going to be some cases of universes touching, colliding, briefly meeting with one another. Sometimes they bump right off and nothing happens. Sometimes, however, they take something or give something away.**_

_**One of the most common gifts is "ideas." People are touched by another universe every day, and don't even realize it. That's why one shudders at the very graphic and sudden mental image of what would have happened if that stranger beside them at the street-corner HADN'T pulled them out of the way of that drunk driver, why one can create such elaborately-detailed fantasies. And most of those "fantasies" can see the light of day in another universe, when the one it came to decides to write it down, draw it, make a movie...**_

_**That's exactly what many people believed this particular world to be: a mere movie.**_

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><p>I jogged out of the movie-theater, looking around the parking lot for my parents' car. I didn't have to look long; they'd been thoughtful enough to park under a streetlight tonight.<p>

"Did you like the movie?" Dad asked as I slid into the backseat.

I smiled at him through the rearview mirror, nodding as I buckled my seatbelt. "It was...amazing," I said. "Definitely worth the twenty bucks."

I saw Dad's eyebrows raise, and Mom held back a laugh. "Oh Alice...you and your popcorn..." she chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at me.

The movie Dad had asked me about was called _9_. I'd first found out about it when I saw a preview on one of my DVDs, and the it had looked pretty interesting. I love dolls, and the thought of an entire movie about oddly-designed rag-dolls in a post-apocalyptic world (one of my favorite fictional settings since middle-school) had gotten me really stoked for the movie. And now I was lucky enough to have seen it on opening night, even if it WAS a school-night. "Thanks for driving me to and from, by the way," I told my parents.

"No need for thanks," Dad answered, eyes on the road. "You know I don't like you walking around at night."

"Yeah, I know..."

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><p>He had good reason to not want me walking around at night. Our house isn't in the boonies or anything, but it is quite a ways from the theater. It didn't seem to take too long to drive back (then again we had hit all the green lights), but for me to walk, it'd take about an hour and a half. And I'm GREAT at walking.<p>

But it must have taken longer than I thought for us to get home because when the car pulled into the driveway, I was already yawning. "I'm just gonna go straight to bed," I mumbled as we got out and entered the house. "Good night!"

"'night, Alice," Dad called up as I ascended the stairs.

"We love you!" I heard Mom add.

Another yawn escaped me as I reached my room, turning on my desk-lamp and sitting on my bed. A quick look at the clock told me why I was so tired; it was nearly eleven, and normally I was in bed by nine-thirty. (Early to bed, early to wake, and all that jazz.) If I'd been able to see the movie SOONER than I'd be asleep by now, but no, I missed the first two showings due to school, one had passed while I was eating dinner, and the only one left was the nine o'clock one. I grumbled a bit as I pulled my shoes off without even bothering to unlace them, and then fell back into bed without even changing into my pajamas. I was too tired to even set my alarm-clock.

The next morning, I found out that would cost me more than I thought.

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><p>I don't remember everything that happened that morning. I don't even remember what I dreamed about; I never do. Probably had something to do with the movie I'd just seen, that happens to a lot of people.<p>

What I do remember is blearily opening my eyes, blinking a few times and staring at the clock without really seeing it. Then my brain actually registered the time and I bolted upright. "Oh my God, is it really-?" I shrieked, wishing it weren't so. But no amount of screaming or panicking would change this simple fact.

I was going to be late for school.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God oh God..." I muttered to myself, struggling to get my feet into my shoes again and run down the stairs without breaking my neck. "Mom, Dad, are you still home?" I called out, grabbing my bag from its hook on the wall at the landing. No answer. They must have already gone to work. And if they had gone to work, then that must have meant...

"They didn't even know I was still asleep!" I realized, bolting out the door, fingers combing through my long black hair in attempt to get rid of any bedhead. "They must've thought I was gone already-crapcrapcrapcrap!" If they'd already left, that meant I couldn't call them for a ride-I couldn't just interrupt them during work!

I had no other choice.

I started running.

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><p>The bus had long since passed my stop, and classes had already started, were a half-hour in, by the time I reached my first-period class. I slumped against the door, a hand wiping away the sweat that had gathered on my forehead as I clutched at the pink note the secretary had given me. Great. just great. Not only was I late, but tired, out of breath, and I had to make myself look dumb by walking to the front of the room and handing over the stupid little note with "unexcused tardy" checked on it.<p>

("Unexcused tardy?" My alarm hadn't gone off, wasn't that an excuse enough?)

Taking a deep, shaky breath and pushed the door open. A few of the other kids looked up as I entered the room, then looked back down at whatever they happened to be doing. I tried not to let them know I noticed. Instead, I went to the teacher and handed over my note with an apologetic smile. He barely glanced at it before marking something in his notebook.

Well, that had been relatively painless. Daring to feel a bit better, I made my way towards my desk near the back...

...and my good mood instantly evaporated.

David leaned forward in his desk, poking my back with the eraser-tip of his pencil. "What's this?" he whispered so that only I could hear. I shuddered in disgust as I felt his breath on my ear, blow a few strands of hair away from my skin. "Little goodie-two-shoes Black is late for class? What'd you do, Alice, get lost on the way to the stop?"

I said nothing. It was better to ignore people like David, not give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me. Instead of responding, I just grit my teeth and tried to focus on the teacher's lecture. He had to back off sometime...

But David apparently wasn't done having "fun" yet. I felt him poke me again, this time with the sharpened tip. "And whooooo, you STINK. What'd you do, run outta soap, or try to clean with dog shit?"

The blood ran from my face. Oh yeah...I'd fallen asleep in the same clothes I'd worn yesterday, and I'd been running the whole way to school. Stiffening in my seat, I tried to hold my arms closer to my body to try and hide the sweat-stains, keep the smell in. I know, I know, I stink, I chanted to myself, eyes closing tightly as I tried to ignore David's muffled, exxagerated gagging noises. Just stop it and leave me alone. I just want to learn...

I felt my hair part in the back, exposing my neck. Then something warm and wet landed on my neck and started to slowly slide downward. I screamed in shock and disgust, jumping out of my seat and clapping my hands over the spot, feeling the thick liquid there.

He...David had actually SPAT on me!

The teacher, who hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary until just now, looked up from his chicken-scratch on the board. "Something the matter, Alice?" he asked.

"I...I have to go to the bathroom!" I choked out, feeling hot tears filling my eyes. Blinking hard to keep them from rolling down my cheeks, I ran for the door, passing David's desk as I went.

"Hey, just trying to give you a little bath, Alice," he snickered quietly as I passed.

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><p>The sinks were too small to properly wash his saliva away. I had to lock myself in a stall so no one could come in and see what I was doing, taking a wet paper-towel with me, and try to dab it away. Sitting on the toilet seat, wiping the back of my neck, I bit my lip hard and tried not to cry. What'd I ever do to him? I thought to myself, hiccuping a little. Why me? There are dozens of other kids in this school, why does he have to do this to ME?<p>

I pulled the wet paper away, gingerly touching the back of my neck again. I couldn't feel his spit there anymore with my fingers, but I could still sorta feel it on my neck; like a phantom-touch. I shivered again, dropping the paper-towel to the floor and hugging my knees to my chest. How could I go back to class after that? He'd just keep mocking me about this incident and probably spit on me again. And I couldn't just ignore it (that was gross!) or keep going to the bathroom to wash up every time it happened; he'd probably tell everyone I had explosive runs or something like that.

"M-Maybe I can...I can just go home..." I whimpered to myself, hugging my legs tighter.

No, that wouldn't work. The school would have to call Mom and Dad to get me to come home early, and they only let me come home early if I'm hurt or sick. I didn't think they'd ever let me come home just because someone was bullying me. "Keep your chin up and ignore it, they'll stop," Mom had told me once, after David had scribbled crude words all over my homework last year.

Ignore it. Sure.

I could sneak out, maybe...The doors weren't locked on the inside, the school was more worried about keeping people out than in, and if I just ducked and waddled past the secretary's desk, I could probably push the door open and run for it before anyone noticed what was happening. Then I'd have to delete the phone messages when the teachers called home to say I had been absent.

_It's a lot of work for sneaking out,_ I thought, sniffling again and setting my feet on the floor. _But I just can't go back to class today. _I wanted to stay at home, away from David, curled under the covers. Maybe reading a fanfiction or something, that would cheer me up...

Unfortunately, I hadn't noticed that one of my feet had landed on the very-wet paper towel. I pushed myself away from the toilet, and that foot shot out from under me. With barely enough time to scream, I felt the split-second sensation of falling backwards, my heart leaping into my throat. There was a loud, almost-metallic _CLANG_ as I felt a sharp burst of pain on the back of my skull, dark spots entered my vision...

...and then I wasn't aware of anything.

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><p><em><strong>Another funny thing about multiverses...<strong>_

_**Though thousands upon thousands upon thousands exist separately, when one occupant dies, they all go to the exact same place, taking one big road that is connected to all of them.**_

_**Sometimes one meets an occupant of another world partway. **_

_**Sometimes they collide.**_

_**Sometimes during a collision, they might get sent back...**_

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><p>Cold.<p>

Why was I cold?

The school's heating wasn't _that_ terrible.

For the second time that day, I opened my eyes, my head throbbing dully. Groaning, I reached behind me, gingerly poking the back of my head and feeling the tender beginnings of a bad lump. "Owwww..." I mumbled, slowly sitting up. Despite the pain, I felt a brief glimmer of hope: if I'd hurt myself, I'd have a better reason to go back home. Great, I thought dryly, opening my eyes and looking at my shoes. I can go home properly, and it only took a concussion.

Wait...

My feet weren't resting on the gray tile of the bathroom floor.

I looked up sharply, eyes widening as I took in my...awfully familiar surroundings. Buildings in the distance, falling apart and destroyed, dead bodies littering the street, frayed and curling posters with symbols and slogans that suggested revolution...No sign of life anywhere, except for MAYBE the dampness of the ground. Small puddles of water were scattered here and there, suggesting a brief rain a while ago. A quick look at the sky confirmed this; it was a sickly-yellow color, but there were unmistakable rainclouds dotting it.

It was impossible. But I knew where I was.

"But...but I can't be..." I whispered to myself, hands going up to my throbbing head. "I just CAN'T! It's-"

_Where are we?_

"Wh-What?" I stopped. A voice? I looked around for the speaker before realizing that the voice had come from in my head. And that it sounded just like... "N-No, it can't..."

_This isn't any sort of paradise, another voice,_ a soft-sounding elderly one said. He sounded confused._ We're just back where we started...just not in our bodies._

_What's going on? Why are we back?_

_I don't like this..._

_Scared..._

I stood up then, hands tightening on my head as I tried to even my breathing, which had gotten harsher and more irregular with each word the several voices said. "I...I'm scared too..." I whispered, startling (Wait. How did I know they were startled?) them all into silence.

_Who are you? _snapped one voice. _What have you done to us?_

"I...I'm Alice..." I said, not sure what else I COULD say. Looking around the wasteland, I tried to calm down, massaging my temples. "I'm Alice and...I'm not supposed to be here."

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><p><strong>AN: Hello everyone! :D This story was originally written by Aerith The Evensar, and all credit for Alice and the concept and plot go to her. I am taking up this story with her permission. ^^;**

**I do not own the 9 fandom or any of the characters in it. Thank you! :)**


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